


Case Closed

by helsinkibaby



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Sided Affection if you squint a little, Season 3, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 01:23:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13625586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: After she closes the Eddie Willows case, Warrick finds Sara in the locker room.





	Case Closed

**Author's Note:**

> Recent events may have me going back through my old folders to find Warrick/Sara fic that I started but never finished/posted. Petty? Moi?

Warrick grunted as he hefted the box up on to one of the high shelves, giving it an extra push to make sure that it stayed there. Another shift over, along with another case, and one that he frankly wasn't going to be sorry to see the back of. It had started off well enough, bantering with Sara as they walked into the Sinner's Den; he'd even got a dig in about her knucklehead boyfriend, always a plus, just to see her face turn that funny colour. Things had only gone downhill from there though, their case taking on a distinctly seamy tinge, and Sara being yanked off it altogether to investigate Eddie Willows's murder. Grissom had put her on it straight away, telling her that she was the one who hadn't really known Eddie, barely knew Lindsey, and no-one had objected. Still though, he knew that it was a tough case, knew that Catherine was obviously feeling the strain, though, with somewhat Grissom-like stubbornness and dedication to the job, she'd continued to work. She'd gone home now, but Warrick wasn't blind, had seen her talking to Sara, had seen the tension between the two women, and could only guess the lines of the conversation.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard something that sounded like a sniff from somewhere in the room, and he turned sharply, looking around him, but seeing no-one. Frowning, he looked a little harder, listened hard, and thought he heard something else, maybe another sniff, softer. He thought it was coming from behind the other shelf unit behind him, and cautiously, carefully, he went to investigate. What he found there surprised him. 

"Sara?" he asked, not quite able to believe what his eyes were showing him. 

She was sitting on the floor, back ramrod straight against the wall, her knees drawn up to her chin, arms wrapped around them. When she lifted her head at the sound of his voice, he could see that her eyes were rimmed in red, and though it didn't look as if she was crying right then, she reached up with one hand to rub her cheeks anyway. The sleeves of her jumper were pulled down low over the knuckles of her hands, and she rested her chin on her fists, her elbows on her knees as she looked up at him. 

When she didn't say anything, he took several steps closer to her, almost afraid to intrude, but more afraid not to. "You ok?" he asked, and she chuckled, a harsh, humourless sound. 

"You know how it is," she told him, and he barely kept back a wince at the bitterness in her voice. 

"Rough case?" he asked, though it wasn't really a question. He ended up beside her, sliding down the wall so that he was sitting down beside her, his posture mimicking hers, except that he left his arms resting loosely against his knees. 

Another mirthless chuckle greeted his words, followed by a giant sigh. "It's harder when it's someone you know," she murmured, and he nodded, knowing that from recent bitter experience, as, he recalled, did she. 

"Makes it two in a row for you," he observed, sneaking a peek at her from the corner of his eye, and she nodded. 

"And neither one worked out the way I wanted," she told him. "I thought I was helping Melissa. Instead, I put her in jail. And Catherine…" Her voice trailed off, and he could hear the frustration in her voice. 

"I heard it was a tough case," he said, because he'd heard as much from Greg and Archie, as well as from various other sources around the lab. 

"Well, at first, my only witness was Lindsey," she told him flatly. "Who, bless her, did her best to help out, considering she's eight years old and was completely terrified during the whole thing." She shook her head, looking up at the ceiling. "You should have seen her during the interview…Vega and I kept trying to make her comfortable, and Catherine just kept asking her questions… poor kid was bending over backwards trying not to get Eddie in trouble… "

Warrick nodded; knowing that it wouldn't have been the first time that Lindsey had walked that particular tightrope. "Kid's been stuck in the middle her whole life," he murmured. 

"We managed to find the time of the gunshot," she told him. "But our crime scene was submerged in, like, eight feet of water. I had two extremely unreliable witnesses, each one fingering the other, and no matter who had it in the first place, the murder weapon's got to be down a storm drain somewhere… there's no way of telling who killed Eddie." 

"There was nothing you could have done Sara," he told her quietly, because in the face of that evidence, he knew that as well as she did, or should have, because she was shaking her head again. 

"You should have seen Catherine's face when she saw me boxing up the evidence," she murmured, and to his ever-lasting shock, Warrick could see tears in her eyes. "I've never seen her look like that. 'Hell of a bedtime story for my little girl', that's what she said to me. All she wants to do is be able to tell Lindsey that her daddy's killer is going to be punished. And what do I get for her? Child endangerment and fleeing the scene for the girl, and possession for sale for the dealer." She took a deep breath, let it out in a rush. "A slap on the wrist, and it was the best that I could do."

"It was all you could do Sara," he replied quietly. "And it's better than nothing." 

She turned her head to look at him then, a crooked smile on her face, one eyebrow raised. "You want to tell that to Catherine?"

"Catherine's in a bad place, not thinkin' straight," he pointed out. "She's grieving Sara… no matter what Eddie might have done, he was still-"

"Oh, I know that," she said quickly, cutting him off. Her words were almost too quick, and Warrick realised with startled insight that she thought he was pissed off with her, that he thought she was being too hard on their colleague. "I mean… it's not that I don't understand where Catherine's coming from. It's just… " She paused, her eyes darting hither and yon, as if she was trying to make sense of her thoughts. "I wanted this one. For them. And I hate that I couldn't… that I wasn't able to… "

"Hey… " He cut her off, letting one knee fall to the side so that it fell briefly against hers. The touch was there and gone in an instant, but it had the desired effect of stopping her words, making her look at him. "You did the best you could with where the evidence took you. That's all you can do Sara. That's all any of us can do." 

"I know that… " she began, and he repeated the motion, stopping her again. 

"So quit beating yourself up," he ordered. "Enough with the self-flagellation." He paused, pursing his lips as something occurred to him. "Though if you're serious about that, I'm sure there's a cat-o-nine tails in our evidence box that you can use… "

A burst of surprised, but genuine laughter was his response, and he smiled. He hardly ever heard Sara laugh, but he knew that it was a sound that he would never get tired of hearing. Her shoulders shook with mirth and she tilted her head back, letting it rest against the wall before turning to look at him as her laughter subsided. "Pass," she giggled. 

"Oh come on," he protested. "I'm sure your knucklehead boyfriend would be only too pleased to help you out… "

She was still giggling, but she managed to give him that narrow eyed stare that told him he was getting close to crossing a line. "Pass," she said again, but she looked happier than she had when he'd first started talking to her, the tension that had shrouded her like a heavy blanket disappearing. 

"Cath's gone home, I think she's gonna take some time off," Warrick told her, changing the subject. "Nick went to catch a few zzzs, God knows where Grissom is… "

She glanced at her watch, having to move her arm a couple of times before she could see it in the dim half-light. "And we've got start of shift in a few hours," she groaned, sounding none too pleased at the prospect. 

"You should call Hank," he said, and surprise had registered in her dark eyes at the suggestion. "Go get dinner… get out of here for a little while." 

She looked as if she was considering it, but shook her head anyway. "Nah… he's working straight through… he'll be out on a call somewhere." She shrugged, not seeming to find anything the matter with that. 

He just about kept back his instinctive reaction; namely, what kind of knucklehead would keep working, wouldn't contemplate taking a break if he knew that his woman was in a bad place and needed him. Warrick knew, without even thinking about it, that all Sara would have to do was call him and he'd be right there, no questions asked. 

He didn't tell her that though, instead he just looked at her sideways, raised one eyebrow. "Well then," he said, letting his voice trail off invitingly, and she looked at him strangely. "I can't run to the Palms… "

"Of course not," she teased, her lips curving up in a smile. "It's not Monday."

He hadn't thought that she'd remember that, and he chuckled, continuing as if she hadn't spoken. "But I can offer you dinner… " She looked as if she was considering it, and he continued, "I know a great vegetarian place… "

At the mention of the magic word, she grinned. "Music to my ears," she told him, struggling to stand up, and he wondered as he saw that just how long she'd been sitting there, brooding before he'd come along. He wasn't as stiff, so he was able to beat her to a standing position, reaching out a hand to her, pulling her up and steadying her on her feet. 

She didn't make any immediate moves though, and he looked down at her curiously, wondering if she was all right. "You ready to go?" he asked, and she nodded, but she wasn't looking at him, was looking past him, and when he followed her gaze, he saw a box, a box just like the one he'd put up on the shelf, except this had a different case number, and the name Eddie Willows written in bold black letters on the side. "Let it go Sara," he told her, still holding her hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "It's over."

"No it's not," she murmured, and close as he was standing to her, he could barely hear her, and he could do nothing but nod, because she was right. It wasn't over, not for Catherine, not for Lindsey. 

"The case is closed Sara," he told her. "That's the best we can do." 

"Yeah," she sighed, taking a deep breath, and he could almost see her shake herself, see her pulling herself together. "Come on… let's go." 

He was strangely reluctant to drop her hand, but he did, and side by side, they walked out the door. Sara lingered on the threshold, her hand hovering over the light switch, lower lip caught between her teeth. He waited in the hall for her, not taking his eyes off her, and he saw her make the decision, saw her drop her hand, and she walked away from the room, and down the hall with him, leaving the lights on behind her.


End file.
